


Romani ite domum

by Ninhaoma



Series: Dressrosa [3]
Category: One Piece
Genre: F/M, PWP, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24268438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninhaoma/pseuds/Ninhaoma
Summary: What could you do at a day at the races, watching your family fight for victory?
Relationships: Donquixote Doflamingo/Violet
Series: Dressrosa [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751851
Comments: 14
Kudos: 18





	Romani ite domum

Violet took a sip of her chilled wine.

Outwardly, her life was very good at this precise moment. She sat in the most elevated company Dressrosa had to offer, enjoying all comforts life could provide. Her clothes were made by the best tailors in Acacia, the food was prepared by chefs rumoured to be able to give Streusen a run for his money, the drinks were the best vintages found both in the country and outside it was well.

Inwardly, Violet was made of black ice. Her face mirrored the emotions around her but never her own as the frozen shards in her gave sharp edges to her words, cutting deep and chilling to the core. The steel and ice in her spine gave her a regal posture, her head held high and proud. But she was empty, a hollow husk of a person, just waiting for the day that would break her completely. The clothes on her back felt chafing, the food was simply too much when people were starving in the dark alleys of the capital, the wine in the glass was too sweet.

Sitting in the shade of the King’s Pavilion, she could feel the stares from citizens as well as their anger and fear, covering her like a sticky coat. They didn’t dare show the same vitriol towards her as they did towards Rebecca, fighting for her life in the arena. Poor, innocent Rebecca, who embodied all the goodness and kindness of Scarlett and used it to fight like a fox; never attacking, always tricking her opponents, always striving to minimise the harm and hurt she caused.

She drew a deep breath, head held defiantly. She would not let them see how much she hurt from seeing her little niece fight for her life. She might be hollow and empty, but today would not break her. Not this day, when Rebecca was once again fighting, when her bones were brittle and her soul fractured, when she held together with sheer strength of will.

A long arm wrapped around her shoulders, drawing her towards his overheated body. She felt the tickle of the feathers in his coat as she was pressed against his side.

“Anything the matter, querida?” came a deep murmur in her ear as his arm tightened around her, trapping her for a heartbeat.

“Just wondering when this’ll be over so I can get back to my duties,” she answered dispassionately, taking another sip of the wine.

“I didn’t know you held so little regard for your niece.”

Violet didn’t even flinch at the implication. Today, she was but a being of ice, not of emotion.

“Oh no, I’m just wondering for how long she’ll drag out today’s match. We both know she will win; after all, we’ve both had the opportunity to assess her skill. And even you have to agree that it is considerable.”

She could feel his rumbling laugh reverberate through her as his hand caressed her arm almost absentmindedly. If she would be of a warmer disposition she could have been flustered at the contact, but today she regarded it with a chilly disinterest.

“That’s true. Will you grace us with your presence for the second round as well? I hear Bellamy has some new trick he’d love to show us.”

“Show you, you mean,” Violet allowed for a smirk to spread across her full lips. “You know the boy is half in love with you. But I don’t think so. When Rebecca wins, there’ll be nothing more of interest for me here today.”

“Is that so?” came a low murmur in her ear as she felt his hand slip lower, long fingers stroking the soft spot on the inside of her arm that she knew that he knew made her breathe faster and electric tingles course through her core. Damn her body for ignoring her brain and for ignoring the frozen shards and edges she needed to keep herself together.

“You’re not playing fair,” she closed her eyes, feeling heat pool in her loins and shivers race up her arms, warmth and cold warring in her body. She took another sip of her wine to distract herself from the sensations his caress awoke. It wasn't very effective, as she'd expected. Damn him and his effect on her.

“Fufufufu, the only fair fight here should be in the arena,” he laughed, fingers now drawing distracting circles on her thigh, still keeping her pressed into his side, limiting her movements. Luckily enough she didn’t need to use her hands to make him react.

“If you say so, young _master_ ,” she breathed in his ear, enjoying the shiver that went through him as she used the honorific. She never used it except on very special occasions, and he knew that she knew that the way she said it made his attention shoot straight to his groin.

She smirked, leaning into his touch, enjoying the spectacle before her as much as the caresses on her waist.

Rebecca was good, there was no denying that. For a girl of barely fifteen, she had bested much stronger and more reputable opponents. One would think that the underdog would get the sympathy from the spectators, but one would not be from Dressrosa in that case.

The outright vitriol towards a teenage girl made Violet sick to her stomach when she allowed herself to feel it; in the loneliness of her room, when nobody else could see her. In the city she walked with her head held high; at the arena she took her rightful place proudly, with steel and ice in her spine.

She could feel the resentment of the public. She heard what they were shouting openly at Rebecca and she knew what they were saying about herself in the safety of their houses. That they would not have taken in a family member of that treacherous king Riku, and how could Doflamingo treat the previous crown princess with such grace, give her a place at his own table, in his own family? _They_ would never, _they_ knew better, _they_ were so much better. If she didn’t have the grace to die, she should just go home, they stated boldly in the safety of their living rooms, conveniently forgetting that this was her home. These were her people.

After a while, Violet had grown too hurt, too tired, to be able to check in on the citizens regularly, as she had done in the beginning. There are only a certain number of times you can try to care, when all you are met with is derision and anger. The only ones she kept up with now were the tontattas; the lovely, naïve, sweet tontattas.

At the moment she watched Rebecca skilfully sidestep an opponent at least three times her size, sending him flying into the waters surrounding the arena with a well-placed kick to the back of his knee; continuing the movement, she slid under the outstretched sword of another, letting the movement bring her to his side and kicking him in the soft tissue just under his ribs, bringing him down into a wheezing pile.

Within a few more moments the fight was over.

Applause, mixed with scorn and disdain, signalled the end of the first round.

Violet stood up, stretching from sitting so long in one position. She felt more than heard Doflamingo rise behind her, his hands settling on her hips.

“Care for some fresh air, cariño?”

With a smirk over her shoulder, she eyed his hungry grin. She could feel the reason for his question press into her back as he moved to stand closer to her.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she answered, shifting her hips imperceptibly to the people gathered around them, but still managing to elicit a small gasp from the man behind her with the small movement. A heady rush of power shot trough her as his hands tightened their grip momentarily; _she_ managed to elicit such a reaction from such a man. _She_ was the reason his breathing was laboured behind her as they navigated around the chairs strewn about the space, and she was quite certain that he'd do almost anything to get her alone at that moment.

She led the way, his hand on the small of her back. But the moment they were out of the Pavilion and in one of the cool corridors leading to it, she was pinned to the wall, his hands grasping her hips, his warm chest pressing into her. He regarded her hungrily, tongue wetting his lips, that ever-present smirk in place.

“You are an evil, cold woman, Violet,” he said, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. Violet arched into his touch, her hands coming up to rest on his shoulders, grasping at the soft fabric.

“Says the man who started the whole thing,” she moaned, turning her head to give him better access to her neck.

“Yes, but I’m also a spoilt man-child, as you so often remind me – I don’t know how to behave properly.”

“Which you are proving right now,” she smirked at him, pushing him an arm’s length away, noting how his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, breathing coming quick and shallow. “You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

With a wolfish grin, he devoured her mouth, hands roaming over her body, his weight pressing her into the wall. His lips were deceptively soft as they slanted over her own full mouth, teasing and smooth as silk. He gave a sharp nip at her lower lip, taking advantage of her surprised gasp to slip his tongue into her mouth. Violet grasped at the short strands of hair at the nape of his neck with one hand, drawing him closer, as the other scraped over his back. She hooked one leg behind his, drawing him bodily closer as she deepened the kiss further, moaning into his mouth. Without warning, he moved from her mouth to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses along her jugular, sucking at the soft spot at the juncture of her neck.

Her dress had slipped up her thighs, helped by both the movement of her hips as well as his leg, pressing between her thighs, opening the access to her heated core. As his hands travelled lower, over her breasts and between her legs, he gave a pleased purr at the lack of barrier between her quim and the open air.

"You come prepared," he noted, capturing her lips in a kiss as he slipped one finger in her, managing to simultaneously rub her clit as well as hit that sweet spot inside that she never quite managed to reach on her own.

"After what happened last time, I didn't bother," she moaned, leaning back against the wall as her eyes fluttered shut, riding his hand as he returned his attentions to her neck and uncovered shoulders. At an especially forceful curl of his fingers, Violets eyes shot up, a strained gasp escaping her tight throat. "And if you don't get inside me right now, I'm not bothering to attend the next event either."

"So demanding," he purred in her ear, almost lifting her off the ground as he added another finger, curling both and causing Violet to muffle a scream in his chest, her orgasm drawing nearer with each flick of his fingers. "But I do enjoy your foresight and fully intend to make the most of this…" With that, he withdrew his fingers and lifted her up, kissing her forcefully. She crossed her legs behind his back, twisting her hips against the swelling in his trousers, drawing a groan from him at the movement. 

She slid her hands over his shoulders, teasing his shirt off his back as his hands grasped her hips. His fingers slipped under her bum, drawing her even closer to him as his tongue slipped into her mouth, tangling for dominance. Her slender fingers started to work on the clasp of his trousers, freeing him from his sartorial prison, lining him up with her heat. With a gasp, he slid into her, stilling for a moment.

This was the one moment Violet loved about being with him. The moment of tranquillity, of pushing everything away, when he’d just entered her. It almost felt real then, as his breath hitched and she felt every miniature tremble of his body against her, as their breaths mingled in the space between them.

Then he started to move, with harsh, powerful movements, driving into her slick channel with abandon. She locked her legs behind his hips, drawing him even further into her, scratching his back as she gasped for breath, the sensations originating between her legs quickly reaching a fever pitch. His movements pounded her into the stone wall behind her, the mixing sensations of delicious heat between them and cold stone behind her becoming almost too much to bear. The angle managed to rub her in just the right places, as the movement of their hips caused a rhythmic teasing of her clit, heightening her arousal.

“If you don’t keep quiet, somebody will hear,” he gasped in her ear as her moans rose in pitch and volume, still keeping up the brutal pace. To keep from crying out loud, she bit down on his neck, drawing a hissed curse from him, their pace never faltering.

With a last hard clutch at her arse, Violet’s barriers broke, and she came, screaming into the soft skin in the junction of his shoulder. Tremors washed over her, locking her legs in place as she rode out the orgasm, feeling Doflamingo’s pace become more erratic before he twitched inside her and let out a pained gasp, joining her in release.

Breathing returning to normal, he let her slide down, adjusting her dress as she felt her feet hit the floor. She collected herself for a moment, feeling the last vestiges of euphoria leave her, leaving behind only the early evening chill.

He had adjusted his own clothing in the meantime, looking as casually ruffled as always. Violet could almost feel her chest clench at the sight of him, knowing it could never be real. Well enough that ice didn’t feel and she could leave almost-wishes be.

She suddenly realised he’d said something that had completely passed her by.

“Could you repeat that?”

He smirked at her inattentiveness, offering her his arm to return to the Pavilion with an almost playful tilt of his head. “Will you join us for the second half?”

She shook her head, gathering her skirts and headed for the door towards the door leading to the outer passages.

“Not today, I’m afraid. Now I really have no reason to stay.”

With a soft click she closed the door behind her, not waiting for his answer.

Out in the cool corridor, she let the ice in her fracture for just a moment, drawing a great shuddering breath, clutching at her chest. She felt empty. Spent, broken, abandoned.

Drawing another deep breath, she patched the cracks in her soul and drew her head up high. No-one would see her break, not today. Not when Rebecca had won and she wouldn't have to worry about her for the foreseeable future. Not when she was dressed in the finest that Acacia could offer and was full from the most delicious treats available. Not when she could get Doflamingo to gasp and moan like his life depended on finding release between her thighs.

Not today.


End file.
